


Under the weather

by Webtrinsic



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Dad!Tony, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Papa!Steve, Protective Avengers, Sickfic, Son!Peter, Superfamily (Marvel), Vomiting, Worried Tony, uncle!bruce - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13194822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: Steve wakes in the middle of the night to the sound of tossing and turning. Peter's sick, and Tony is across the world. Luckily he knows what he's doing, and his husband will be coming home real soon.





	Under the weather

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS AGAIN DEDICATED TO ALL MY LOVES WITH THEIR SUPPORT AND SUCH, IM SORRY ABOUT ALL THE BULLSHIT GOING ON BUT SHIT HAPPENS. HOPE YOU ENJOY. 
> 
> IF YOU EVER WANNA CHAT HIT ME UP ON TUMBLR: collectanea1122

The shift a few rooms over is what woke the soldier, who sat up and meandered to his son's room. Peter lay in his bed, turning and tossing in his sleep. And Steve could already see the sweat sticking to the child's skin.

Feet padding on the carpet, he bent beside his son. Hand pressing to the heated skin of his forehead. The five-year-old making a noise in his sleep at the cool hand of his papa.

"JARVIS, do you know where the thermometer is?" He asked gently, arms scooping up the young Stark, reminding him he'd have to call his husband soon.

"The hall cabinet Sir," the posh AI informed. Peter groaned, eyes opening wearily. Vacantly looking up at his Papa as he searched the cabinet. Pulling out the thermometer, popping it out of it’s casing.

Noticing his son's consciousness, he gave a soft reassuring smile. Peter sniffling, his small hand curling as if he were waving hello.

"Hi sweetheart," he hummed, "Not feeling so well?"

Peter only nodded, shivering lightly. Trying to hide his face in his Papa's throat. Confused at why everything was suddenly so cold.

Steve cooed until Peter finally lifted his head and allowed his father to place the thermometer under his tongue. The small child wearily looked around and JARVIS upped the lights more. Aware of how the child felt about the dark.

When the blip of the thermometer met his ears, he took it from Peter. Shaking it lightly before checking.

**101.3**

"JARVIS could you call Tony?" Steve asked, taking Peter to the kitchen where the children's Tylenol resided. Peter protested at the taste, coughing after he'd swallowed it down. And drinking the water Steve so graciously fed him.

"Hello?" The gruff and sleepy hoarse voice of his husband came from above.

"Tony Peter is sick," He stated as Peter fell into another coughing fit.

"What?" He garbled, sounding far more alert.

"Peter has a fever, I don't know how serious yet. I just gave him some medicine and am going to get him to bed," Steve reiterated.

"Baby?" Tony asked, and Steve knew the less than alert child heard him. And again lightly waved with small fingers as if Tony could see it.

"He waved," Steve explained, watching the little one yawn and bury his face against his chest. Lightly complaining he was cold.

"He can't talk?" Tony questioned, and Steve could hear the zippers of a suitcase and the frantic rustle of clothes. Whether if they were being shoved or rapidly folded he didn't know, but he expected it was the latter.

"He said he's cold, he's tired. I don't really think he's coherent right now," Steve admitted. Lightly bouncing the child and taking him back to his room.

Peter blanky cheering he got to sleep in daddy and papa's bed, causing a small smile to light Steve's face.

"Yeah, sweetheart."

"I'll be home as soon as I can," Tony promised, and Steve spoke gently; hearing his husbands labored breathing.

"I have him, Tony, if it gets worse the Doctors on call. And Bruce is just downstairs," before he addressed Peter, "Can you tell your father goodnight?"

"Night night," was mumbled lightly. Before falling asleep against Steve's chest. Who slid into bed, combing his fingers through the sweat-matted hair, obviously inherited from his husband.

"Goodnight baby," He crooned, listening closely as he pressed hard on his suitcase. Willing the thing to close, Steve was humming.

"You sure he'll be okay?" Tony whispers, arms straining to keep the bag shut as he zipped it up.

"Yeah, we'll be okay until you get here."

"Goodnight Steve," Tony hummed, finally managing to get the bag zipped up and get his jet in route.

"Goodmorning Tony," Steve replied, the call ends. He held his son close the rest of the night, waking up at every labored breath, and uncomfortable whine.

But they made it through the night without any more interruptions. Until they had to get up, and Peter was crying. Miserable and uncomfortable, stomach curling over itself before he threw up. Steve moving quick enough to save himself and most of Peter too.

The blanket could be washed, and he got them up. Wiping the watery vomit off of Peter's lips. Who sobbed, trying to cling once again. Steve crooning softly, apologizing for the child's discomfort.

Always the kindest, Peter cries, "I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's okay sweetheart. You didn't mean too, it's okay," Steve assured, tearing off the wet sheets and pushing them down the laundry shoot.

Checking the time, Steve figured his husband wouldn't be home for around another three hours.

"Let's brush your teeth, okay?" Steve prompted gently, and Peter nodded. Far more coherent than he was before, but Peter continued to cough harshly every now and again.

Once teeth were brushed, Steve brought them to the kitchen.

"JARVIS, would you invite Bruce up?" He asked, and not long after the scientist came up, smelling the fresh scent of breakfast.

"Oh you didn't-" Before even Steve could assure their friend it was alright, Peter was coughing and Steve was rushing over. Rubbing his back.

"I guess it's time for more medicine, huh?"

"Is Peter not feeling well?" Bruce asked tentatively, fetching the medicine from the cabinet and bringing it over. The five-year-old cringing away, hating the taste.

"I got him," Bruce assured, allowing Steve to tend to their breakfast before it burned. It'd taken Bruce a long time to be able to care for Peter, he'd been afraid of the easily trusting himself around the child who happily hugged him. Whose eyes lit up when he came into the room, and he'd never thought the moment he saw his nephew sick his heart and instincts would kick in.

And Peter allowed his uncle to take his temperature and feed him his medicine, and rub his back when the coughing started up again.

"How long has he been sick?" He asked, looking over at the boy's father.

"Since last night, and Tony should be home soon. You know how he gets."

Bruce did know, they all knew. Steve was the ideal choice to handle the situation if only because he'd remember to take care of himself, but if he didn't tell Tony; war would rage. Tony would fret, lose sleep and do everything and anything to help. He could even recall the time when infant Peter had gotten sick and Tony hadn't let go the whole time, nor had he stopped crying.

They all understood though, Peter was the only other Stark left. The two had been wanting a child for a while and when Tony had figured out an old fling of his had just died in childbirth with his child, who had been born early due to her drinking habits. They'd been lucky Peter hadn't been affected too badly, just his resistance to sickness had been a little weak. Resulting in a week in the hospital.

The couple had been blessed, even though they worried. But if anyone had any reason to worry it was Tony, who loved fiercely even if not many realized it.

To their surprise, the elevator opened, and the billionaire ran in. Spotting his son and quickly plucking him up into his arms, Peter clung back weakly. Coughing again into the suit-clad shoulder.

The calloused hand of the inventor rubbing his hand up and down his sons back. Pressing kisses to his temple, Peter giggling lightly at the attention. Having missed his daddy.

"I missed you, baby, Papa said you weren't feeling too well," Tony pointed out, watching Steve scrape the pan and set the eggs and bacon on a plate.

"Missed you," the child sniffled, again coughing into his father's shoulder. Tony's face contorted in worry, pressing kisses to Peter's head.

Steve walked over, setting the table. Before rubbing his husbands back, and kissing his cheek, "Welcome home."

"Ah huh," Was his only reply, burying his face against Peter's shoulder. The two holding to each other tightly, while Steve smiled sympathetically.

"Why don't we eat?"

They all agreed, Tony sitting with Peter on his lap. Bruce attempting small talk with Tony, who was too focused on feeding Peter to reply other than a few words.

Ever so polite, Steve initiated another conversation with the scientist. Bruce again thanking the soldier for breakfast and often looking over to his friend.

"I love you baby," Tony's murmuring in a constant litany, Peter blushing at the attention.

Not long after they finished their meal, Peter groaned. Small hands holding his stomach, and Tony was quick in pulling the trash can over. Who sobbed and threw up, Tony soothing his back and whispering apologies.

Wishing he could be the one who was ill, and not his son. Anyone but his son.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry," And Steve stepped in, wiping Peter's mouth before Peter's head rested against Tony's chest once again. He yawned, eyes flittering until they shut.

Tony's hand sliding up to cradle his head against his chest, finally looking his husband in the eyes. Worry laced into them.

Steve gave an assuring smile, a small fault of Tony's lips replying before Steve leaned in. Their eyes closing. A soft warm kiss blessed amongst them.

Tony's free hand absently twined with Steve's as they arrived at their bedroom. Falling into bed, holding Peter in their arms. The little family fell asleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: colletanea1122


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